


Understanding Pain with Raphael

by crOwnlEssG



Series: Notes Tied to Balloons [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Family, Angel Siblings, Angelic Family, Angelic Siblings, Angels, Archangels, Brothers, Castiel's childhood, Castiel's fledglinghood, Childhood, Collection of stories, Family, Fledglinghood, Fledglings, Gen, Healer, Heaven, Mini-story, Notes Tied to Balloons, NttB, Pre-Series, Series: Notes Tied to Balloons, Three chapters, Understanding Pain, Understanding Pain with Raphael, sixth story, stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crOwnlEssG/pseuds/crOwnlEssG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a fledgling, Castiel had a very big, very interesting family. Each story will stand on its own and will consist of three chapters. Sixth story's up: Suffering can lead to a lot of things, one of them is a chance to live a better life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

  
_Every time I feel the sunshine_   
_I thank the Lord up above,_   
_for seeing something I_   
_couldn't see at all._   
_Coming down hard,_   
_the feeling's all gone._   
_Where are we gonna hide?_   
_My wings are feeling clipped now,_   
_and all I wanna do is fly._   


_._

_Grace – Ed Kowalczyk_

* * *

Atop the highest tower of Heaven's Infirmary, where moonbeams and drops of sunlight merge together and the air hummed with the chorus of electricity rather than songs that praised the Father, Raphael observed the great expanse of his home with a rare feeling of peace.

It had been too long since he last experienced such a thing; usually, Father would hold a meeting with the archangels and they would discuss 'The Things That Passed' and 'The Things That Have Yet To Come.' Oftentimes, they were given specific, monumental tasks to be carried out straight away, although the work put into them could last centuries. And if Father was being silent and aloof, there were almost always wounded soldiers in desperate need of treatment.

Not today though. Today, all was well in Heaven. He closed his eyes and basked in his solitude…

Then a scream shook the entire tower.

"Hold him down! Hold him down!" a voice echoed a few levels below.

"Steady… Careful, his wings could jut out at any moment." frantically joined another.

"Oh Father, please help this poor creature." wailed a third.

For a moment, surges of lightning crackled across Raphael's wings in frustration, but he forced himself to calm down and his wings returned to their standard hue of heavy clouds. There were rules inside the Infirmary, and the most important one was that the more injured an angel was, the higher the level they had to go to be treated. Since Raphael resided over the very peak of the Infirmary, only the most severe casualties were to be sent to him. From the sound of the scream, the wounded angel was probably just three or four levels beneath him.

Realizing that peace had escaped him yet again, Raphael unwillingly abandoned his spot and went down to investigate. Apparently, the Healers had moved their patient up a couple of more levels; to be more specific, they relocated to the level just underneath Raphael's. Aside from that, the incessant screams and waves of pain and distress emanating from the injured angel's Grace indicated that the situation was dramatically worsening.

The moment Raphael walked into the room, he was met with the sight of three Healers desperately trying to pin down a struggling fledgling. That was the first thing that struck him as odd; how can a mere fledgling fight against the strength of three full-grown angels? And the second thing he pondered on was what damage or ailment could this fledgling be possibly suffering from to get him all the way up here?

"What's going on?" Raphael thundered.

Startled, the three Healers glanced up and allowed enough space for him to get a decent look of the fledgling they were restraining: his eyes were tightly closed, his form was writhing in agony and the light of his Grace was flickering so much that it threatened to extinguish itself. The chamber was filled with his aggrieved moans and whimpers as he strived to endure whatever was hurting him, and when the pain got too much for him, a scream burst forth.

One of the Healers finally recovered from taking in Raphael's presence. "There was a training session with a group of fledglings. I believe the exercise was to confront a full-grown basilisk – " he began.

"A basilisk?" interrupted Raphael. "That's the equivalent of sending newborn lambs to a lion. No fledgling would stand a chance." he stated, although his tone lacked any trace of concern.

The fledgling – Castiel – let out another scream and attempted to break free again, but the Healers were quick to hold him down. They turned him to a different angle for a better grip and Raphael saw that his wings were nearly severed from him, just hanging onto a thin line of Grace and a flimsy cluster of feathers. That had to be the cause for all the screaming, and despite the composed façade Raphael had to maintain, a bit of his own Grace twitched in sympathy.

Then, for a millisecond, he noticed a dark ooze trickling out of Castiel's gaping wound.

"Thank the Father that they all survived then. Especially this one." said one of the Healers, turning the fledgling over again.

"Yes, he is fortunate." muttered Raphael.

Just then, Castiel started thrashing about as a trembling cry forced its way out of him. Raphael decided it was time for him to step in.

"Be still, brother. I am here to help you." he whispered.

He was about to let the healing power of his Grace pour into him when, all of a sudden, Castiel wrenched his eyes open. Raphael had not spent time with all of his siblings, but he had at least seen every one of them – every feature, every bit of Grace, every color and intensity their light projected. He knew that Castiel's eyes were a tranquil yet penetrating shade of blue.

What he was staring into were two voids of hellish red.

Castiel released the most piercing scream Raphael had ever heard in his existence, a scream not out of pain, but of horror. He momentarily arched off the surface he was lying on before recklessly doing everything he can to liberate himself. Castiel began rambling frightened gibberish, much like an extremely distraught human child.

"What is happening to him?" one of the Healers asked.

"Restrain him; I can't have his wings snapping right off." Raphael ordered.

They obeyed, and after some time, the red in Castiel's eyes mellowed to a deep purple, which later faded into his normal blue color. At that transition, Castiel collapsed into a limp, tired heap.

"It hurts… It hurts so much…" he murmured shakily. An assault of pain from his wings came over him, and all Castiel could do was whimper miserably and curl into a tiny ball. His entire form was shaking from fatigue and agony and the light of his Grace was flickering dangerously again.

Taking pity on him, Raphael slowly approached his brother. Since Castiel showed no signs of going into a fit any time soon, the three other angels backed away from the archangel.

"Hush, Castiel." said Raphael. He gave him a gentle touch and made him lose consciousness; Castiel's form became lax and his flickering Grace steadied to a dull glow. He then scooped him up and proceeded to the topmost level.

"Sir?" a Healer ventured.

"Leave now. Your services are not required at the moment." said Raphael coolly.

"Yes, sir." they replied in unison.

Raphael had not gone far when a thought entered his mind. "One more thing: you don't happen to know the one responsible for sending these fledglings to the basilisk, do you?" he inquired.

"I believe Zachariah is in charge of them today." one of the Healers answered.

"I see. That will be all."

O_x

It had been some time since Raphael brought Castiel to the top level to rest. He had settled him on a bed of springtime clouds with a warm blanket of afternoon sunshine over him. He had given his brother a tiny fraction of his Grace to help him heal, and because an archangel's Grace was so much more powerful than a typical angel's, it would take a long while before Castiel's Grace could absorb a piece from Raphael. During that time, Raphael visited Castiel's garrison to check if anyone else was harboring any similar ailments, as well as to give Zachariah a stern lecture.

When he returned to the Infirmary, he caught Castiel trying to escape the tower. "What are you doing out of bed?" demanded Raphael.

Castiel froze and shrank into himself at the boom of his voice. Raphael advanced on him and Castiel actually fell backward when he realized he could not hide into himself any further.

"Well?" Raphael pressed on.

"My garrison might require me," mumbled Castiel after flinching from a pang from his injury.

Raphael gave him a condescending glare. "No, you just want to be in the comfort of your own brood. You're not going anywhere until your wings are completely healed." he stated.

It seemed like Castiel was about to say something when he experienced another fit of pain and was reduced to writhing and moaning on the floor again. Irked, Raphael snatched him up and made to bring him back to his bed.

When Castiel's squirming stopped, he opened his eyes to reveal that they were blazed in red once more. "Don't kill me! Don't kill me! Please don't kill me! _No_!" he cried out, pushing as hard as he can against Raphael.

"I'm not doing you any harm. Stop talking such nonsense." said Raphael.

"Please don't explode me… please." he sniveled. His Grace was now sending out waves of utter fear instead of the waves of torment radiating off him only a short moment ago.

"What are you talking about? I'm here to heal you, not smite you!" said Raphael, albeit he was beginning to think that there was something much more to his injury.

Eventually, Castiel calmed down and his eyes went from red to purple to blue. Raphael placed him on his bed the second he was certain he would not be having another episode like that in the immediate future.

"It hurts… I don't want it to hurt… Please make it stop." sobbed Castiel, trying to curl into a ball again. From that angle, Raphael discovered that a thick black liquid was dribbling out of Castiel's wound for a second time.

"What happened on Earth anyway, between you and the basilisk?" he asked.

"…Rachel was… going to be eaten… saved her… got bitten…" replied Castiel in between gasps and groans of pain.

"You're aware they're one of the most venomous beings in creation," asked Raphael, although it came out as a statement.

Castiel winced and held back a cry.

"You won't perish, but the poison is obviously affecting you some other way." informed Raphael. He already had his suspicions as to _how_ it was affecting him, though until he was completely sure, he would simply keep it to himself.

Castiel's eyes started to change color again; however, rather than escalating to red, it just settled on purple and his brother's pained expression gradually became dazed.

"Elephant behind you…" he murmured.

Raphael took a glance to his back but saw that they were alone in the room. "There's nothing there." he said.

"…It's rolling around…" Castiel went on hazily, as if he did not hear him. "…Now it's raining blue and purple hedgehogs…"

It was official. The poison was making him hallucinate.

"What do I look like to you?" Raphael tested out.

It took a moment for Castiel to answer. "…Underwater cactus… I don't like cactuses." he muttered.

If Raphael were human, he would be sighing in aggravation by now. "I can't simply siphon the poison right out of you at present; it's still heavily attached to your Grace. You will have to make it seep out on your own." he explained.

"…mountains with glass… flying metal boxes…" digressed Castiel.

"Castiel, are you listening?" he bellowed, grasping his brother's sides.

The electricity coursing through his wings must have made its way into his hands and, in turn, to Castiel because the shock of it jolted him out of his stupor and returned his eyes to blue. With his senses no longer dulled, the pain was back with full force and Castiel was back to being in sheer agony.

"Brother, it hurts!" he exclaimed. "Help me, please! It's so much – !" His words were cut off by his own tortured scream. And even when it finally died down, everything about him begged Raphael for mercy, for relief.

Reluctantly, Raphael gave him just that and watched his brother slump into unconsciousness.


	2. Two

_Torn apart at the seams of my dreams turn to tears_

_I'm not feeling the situation_

_Run away try to find that safe place you can hide_

_It's the best place to be when you're feeling like me_

_._

_All These Things I Hate – Bullet for My Valentine_

* * *

After a short time, Castiel awoke and the pain from his wings assaulted him almost instantly. It was not long before he started hallucinating again. Now, it could just be a coincidence, but Raphael could not help but notice that his brother's writhing and crying stopped the moment that ghastly red light entered his eyes.

" _Help me!_ Someone help me, please! _I don't want to die_!" screamed Castiel, practically destroying his bed with his struggles.

Another thing Raphael noticed about him was that, whenever his brother was like this, all traces of pain disappeared from his Grace, although it was replaced by sheer terror. He could also see that the poison would harden and grip onto his essence tighter in this state.

"He's going to kill me! _Please help me! Please!_ " Castiel continued to beg. He was staring at every possible direction, desperately seeking aid, though Raphael doubted he was really _seeing_ anything. Besides, he had made the whole chamber soundproof so as to not alarm every angel in Heaven.

In his panic, Castiel did not realize he was about to fall off his bed until it was too late. Luckily, Raphael caught him in time and restrained him in his arms. Castiel squirmed and screamed even harder but Raphael refused to let him go unless he calmed down.

" _Help!_ _Please!_ I'm inside the home of a prophet! I'm going to be destroyed!" Castiel madly went on.

That was strange. All Raphael ever heard from him were his imagined threats of being killed, but the mention of prophets? The last prophet had died two hundred and sixty-seven years ago (on Earth-standard), and the next one would not be born for another three hundred and fifty-one years. Surely none of their homes were present now. Then he recalled that the fledgling in his grasp was severely hallucinating, and Raphael thought it was preposterous of him to even consider what was coming out of his brother's mouth.

"Don't let him smite me! Please! I was only doing what's right to save the planet!" cried Castiel.

Throughout the whole pitiful ordeal, Raphael had an urge to just make him unconscious again. However, he knew that that was rarely the solution and he might even end up giving his brother an overdose. As hard as this was, Castiel needed to endure this on his own if he ever wanted to rid himself of the poison.

Eventually, Castiel ran out of energy and his movements began to slow. Soon, he was slumped against Raphael's hold and the light in his eyes melted into purple. Most of the fear he had harbored drained out of him as his expression became a little dazed; by the way his Grace flickered, Raphael was certain that Castiel can feel some of the pain from his wings again, albeit not at full force.

"… I don't know… where I am… Who are all these people… talking to me?" he mumbled, so quietly that Raphael had trouble understanding him. Castiel was shaking now, both from fatigue and the pain building up inside him.

Here, Raphael made another observation: the hallucinations would always be at their peak whenever Castiel's eyes were red. Whenever they were purple – midway from red to blue – the hallucinations were not as strong, and it seemed that he was more connected to reality compared to him having red eyes. The agony on his back would return, to some degree, and there were times when Castiel could still respond to his environment, his _true_ environment.

Raphael placed his brother back into his bed, just as the color blue washed over his eyes which signified his return to reality. As expected, Castiel let out a wretched moan and curled into a ball as his back flared with unhindered torture. The single good thing about that was the fact that a few drops of basilisk-poison trickled out of his wound. Now that Raphael thought about it, the only time the poison ever exited his brother's form was when he was in his proper state of mind.

For a while, Raphael simply watched Castiel tremble and whimper without so much as holding him or muttering words of comfort; he never saw the point of those gestures. Regardless, he wondered how much more his brother could take of this, what with him still being such a tiny fledgling.

A long time passed before Castiel had gathered enough strength to look up at Raphael. "W-Why… does it… h-h-hurt… th-this much?" he asked hoarsely.

"To remind you that you are injured and your form needs to repair itself." said Raphael. He essentially recited the words, rather than put real meaning to them, because that was a question he had heard for millennia from countless patients and with an equally countless list of ailments.

Through his haze of pain, Castiel turned a little to be able to look at Raphael better. "Why… can't it… n-not hurt?" he asked. He winced at a particularly sharp throb from his back. "I… I don't… w-want it to hurt."

At that, Raphael could have snorted in derision. " _No one_ 'wants it to hurt'." he stated testily. He then forced himself to soften his tone when he realized his ire was getting the better of him again. "Pain may not always be enjoyable, but it is a good thing. After all, God created pain for a reason." he said.

He was not sure, though it looked like Castiel was tilting his head to the side. "Really?" he weakly inquired.

"Of course." Raphael replied. He sat down beside him. "Without pain, you wouldn't be aware that you have been poisoned, then you wouldn't have been given medical attention. Without pain, there is no point to being careful. Everyone will become reckless and bring more damage, both to themselves and around them. Pain reminds us that we will always be challenged, and it lets us appreciate more what blessings we have." he said.

Castiel appeared to be having a hard time drinking it all in since his back was being constantly assaulted by the excruciating effects of the poison. But he seemed to understand, one way or another; he was on the verge of saying something when he suddenly cried out as the level of agony escalated. Globs of poison dripped out of his wound in the process.

Raphael waited for his fit to end before he spoke up. "How bad does it hurt?" he asked.

Castiel's fragile blue light was flickering in time with the trembles wracking his form. In a partial act of mercy, Raphael placed his wingtip at the wound and let a small, very temporary wave of comfort blanket his brother. The result was instantaneous and some of the stiffness Castiel had left him.

"How bad does it hurt?" Raphael asked again.

It took a while, but Castiel eventually managed to find his voice. "It's like… my Grace and wings… they're being crushed and pushed out of me." he whimpered. "It's like… the poison's sawing them off from the inside…"

Raphael studied his brother's form. He could see the poison deep within him, stuck in the place where the start of his wings and Grace met. It was practically fused to the spot, similar to a huge leech holding onto its host. What Castiel was not aware of was that the poison was also, very slowly, eating away at him; Raphael decided to leave that fact to himself so as to spare his brother any more terrors.

"What about your hallucinations? Can you tell me anything about them?" Raphael went on. He was a professional after all, the best in Heaven, and he could not afford to waste time talking about nonsense.

Castiel's gaze went hazy for a moment and Raphael thought that red or purple light might appear again. "I don't… remember… anything." he said.

That caused Raphael to scrutinize him. "Are you sure? Do not lie to me." he added darkly.

"N-Not… lying. I – " Castiel was cut off when the pain got too much for him and he cried out.

As he lay there, writhing and sniveling, Raphael surmised he had done all that was needed. He blanketed his brother, cleaned up the poison that had dribbled onto the bed and got up. He would have exited the chamber to check on the other patients (three angels were recently admitted into the Infirmary and for some reason they were unable to stop flying backward), but then he felt a light tug at the base of his wing, a touch so trivial he hardly felt it.

Turning, he saw Castiel staring imploringly at him. "Can you please… h-heal me… faster?" he whined.

In all his creation, Raphael believed that he would never experience the feeling of surprise. Now, however, he was proven wrong. A fledgling just asked him – an _archangel_ – to do something; he had been basically given an order by his younger sibling. This was unheard of! He could only imagine how Michael and Gabriel would react.

Castiel must be in so much pain that he was desperate enough to make a request to an archangel.

"It doesn't work that way." said Raphael forebodingly, referring to both the medical complexities tied to his brother's condition and the fact that he was being told what to do. "The poison is so adhered to your Grace that removing all or most of it at once would cause your Grace to rip as well. And if the poison comes into direct contact with my energy, it would draw strength from me and seize your Grace tighter and consume you faster. You're the only one who can truly help yourself, but you have to _focus_ _and_ _stop_ _griping_." he said seriously, putting extreme emphasis on the last few words.

Castiel looked like he was on the brink of crying, although it was unclear whether he got scared by what Raphael stated or his wound was sending bursts of pain through him again.

"I will help you when necessary, though with the rate of your… 'progress,' I suppose it would take some time before this is over." added Raphael.

Whatever response Castiel had to give to that, Raphael did not hear it as he left.

O_x

Raphael returned to the topmost chamber to find that it was empty, which was mostly highlighted by the uncustomary silence. Upon this discovery, he literally stormed out of the room, with lightning and thunder erupting all around him, to seek out the nearest Healers and pour his wrath down on them.

" _Where is he_?" he boomed when he spotted a Healer two levels below.

"W-Who, sir?" she stuttered.

"Castiel! Who else?" yelled Raphael. He had made it clear to the whole Infirmary that the fledgling would be under his supervision, so as to prevent any other patients to be sent to him, and the fact that she had even asked such a question made it difficult for him to refrain from smiting her.

"I don't know, sir. No one has reported anything." she squeaked, frightened.

Gigantic bolts of lightning leaped out from his wings and struck the hallways. " _Find him!_ He must not leave the Infirmary!" he boomed.

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir." she said worriedly. In less than a millisecond, she was gone.

The thunder and lightning emanating from Raphael eventually died down and he forced himself to assess the situation more calmly. Castiel should not have been able to get out in the first place; he, Raphael, had the entire chamber filled with sigils and other enchantments powerful enough to be executed only by archangels. Raphael should have at least been notified that his patient had escaped.

It did not take long for the entire place to be swarming with Healers as they frantically searched for Castiel. Soon, Raphael had set off on his own search just as the Infirmary was locked down.

He began a top-to-bottom search, going at a speed quicker than lightning. His presence was as ominous and conspicuous as a big storm cloud and everyone immediately got out of his way. Raphael scanned every nook and cranny, trying to pinpoint a smidgeon of Castiel's Grace or even hints of basilisk poison. And after what could be counted as several hours' worth of searching, he was alarmed that he could not find his brother.

That was when Raphael's thoughts raced chaotically through his mind. What if Castiel had already gotten out of the Infirmary and was now wandering Heaven, possibly infecting other unsuspecting angels? What if he was hallucinating again and he accidentally hurt himself or plunged toward Earth or…

Raphael abruptly stopped thinking. Why did he suddenly sound like he was concerned over his brother? He had never been concerned over anyone, not since the time after the Fall.

He shook his head in an effort to clear his mind and took flight once more, scouring the halls and chambers. It was not until Raphael was at an uninhabited region of the Infirmary did he became aware of a few specks of dark liquid on the floor, and they still seemed to be fresh.

He landed and started to follow a now noticeable trail. The droplets were inconsistent, as Raphael learned: sometimes, they were hardly detectable and the next batch would not turn up until after four or five hallways; other times, there would be a thick puddle of the dark liquid, which would stretch on for at least two chambers.

Finally, Castiel's small, wobbling form appeared in the distance. His back was sticky with the poison that had seeped out and his formerly downy wings were also slick and filthy because of the foul substance.

Raphael approached him slowly and decided to stay out of his brother's line of sight for the moment. When he checked his eyes, he saw that they were mostly purple, with traces of blue around the edges. He vaguely wondered what was going through his mind right now… then he dismissed the entire thing as nonsense and stepped forward to pick up his brother.

Unfortunately, what should have been a quick process turned into a fervent struggle as Castiel's eyes changed to red. "No!" he screamed, scrambling out of Raphael's reach. He slipped on some of the spilled poison on the floor and fell down, albeit not once did he stop trying to retreat.

"No, no, no, no, no, no…" Castiel whimpered, and despite the fact that his wings were virtually severed from him, he still attempted to move them and use them to hide himself. They hardly so much as bent forward and Raphael already found the sight to be degrading and pitiable. As Castiel was doing his best to move his uncoordinated self, Raphael scooped him up and proceeded to return him to his chamber.

"Spare me! Please! _Please!_ " yelled Castiel. He was thrashing around in Raphael's hold, and if he were not an archangel, he would have suffered injuries already from the frantic blows and kicks.

"Hold still!" growled Raphael, although he knew it was pointless commanding him in this condition.

He glanced at Castiel's back and saw that the poison, as expected, had stopped trickling from his wound and was solidifying, like a scab forming on human flesh. If this kept up, the poison would be bonded to Castiel permanently, and this just proved that the poison only seeped out of him when Castiel was sane and actually had a semblance of control over himself.

As a last resort, Raphael sent Castiel into a semi-conscious state to calm him down, lest his brother snapped his wings off in his mad squirming. Castiel went lax almost instantly; Raphael did not hesitate to fly him back to the top of the Infirmary.

Somewhere along the way, the light in Castiel's eyes changed to purple and he began mumbling things again:

"Have to save him… I must… s-save… him…"

It was as if Castiel was living some other world whenever he was hallucinating, a world that involved prophets, saving the world, facing the constant threat of being killed and now rescuing someone. Raphael was beginning to suspect that the hallucinations were no longer as random as they seemed to be.

He wondered just what exactly his brother was seeing.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_We march out of the darkness_

_We revel in the flames_

_The mission is accomplished_

_We're ready for the change_

_And the only thing that will set us free is living through the pain_

_And the only thing that I'll guarantee, we'll never be the same_

_._

_March Out of the Darkness – Papa Roach_

* * *

If there was an actual, _physical_ door that lead to the topmost chamber, Raphael would have brutally kicked it open and pay no attention to the loud bang that almost ripped it off its hinges. As he crossed the threshold, he noticed that a few of the sigils bordering the room were smudged and rendered useless. Upon closer inspection, he learned that the cause was droplets of basilisk poison, which seems to be highly effective in cancelling out wards. That would explain how Castiel was able to escape.

Raphael looked down at his brother whom he held; his eyes were still purple, keeping him in a dazed state.

"Castiel," said Raphael sternly as he put him down onto the bed. When his brother did not acknowledge him, he reached out and brashly shook him, and he was not at all ashamed to have unintentionally released a spurt of lightning. " _Castiel_!"

That got a reaction as Castiel jolted and blue washed over his eyes. "What's going on?" he asked, hoarse and utterly confused, after a long moment.

Even as a huge wave of agony crashed into his brother's Grace, the smallest amount of sympathy never registered in Raphael. "Why did you leave this chamber?" he thundered.

Amidst the torment and the fatigue, Castiel managed to lift his head and meet his gaze. "I... left…?" he began.

"I told you to stay here. The whole Infirmary's in chaos because of you." snapped Raphael.

Castiel's expression became distant, as if he was trying to recall something. In the process, traces of purple entered his eyes. "Getting scary… had to… escape…" he muttered.

"Haven't you realized by now that the implausible things you're seeing are mere illusions spawned by the poison?" bellowed Raphael, bolts of lightning crackling off his wings.

However, by now, the bits of purple in his brother's eyes were starting to push away the blueness again. "They're coming for me…" Castiel murmured, whimpering a little. "So many of them…"

Maybe it was frustration, maybe it was concern, but Raphael sat down on the bed and forced the lightning to stop bursting out of his form. "Brother, listen to me: you're being a fool and a coward for allowing the poison consume you. What you're doing is taking the easy way out, and we all know that path is not a true exit and solution."

It did not matter what Castiel was 'seeing'. He was saying this because he could see that Castiel was beginning to give up, that he was considering of letting the poison swallow his Grace if that meant he could be in his hallucination-induced world where the pain did not affect him. Raphael's own Grace pulsed slightly in an act of pity. From what he had gathered, the hallucinations were horrifying for his brother, and yet he still chose them over the real torture the poison was inflicting on him.

"The pain may vanish, but at what cost? You lose your sanity to these hallucinations; you drift apart from your own family." Raphael went on, stating the last words as a fact rather than having a sentimental meaning.

Regardless, the purple light flickered out and left a dull, washed-up blue in its wake. "I-I'm trying… to overcome it." said Castiel weakly.

"Not hard enough." replied Raphael. He studied his brother's tiny, miserable form. "Do you want it to stop hurting?" he asked.

With what strength he had, Castiel nodded.

"Then _make it_ stop. It won't go away by itself." said Raphael coldly.

Castiel trembled as a particularly alarming flare of pain rippled through him. "I don't think I can do it." he sniveled.

Raphael rose to his full height. "The decision rests with you. Either succumb to the effects and live out the rest of eternity in a twisted fantasy, free of agony but full of horrors, or deal with the suffering and stay connected to everything you hold dear." he said. He made sure Castiel was listening to him before he added, in a quieter tone, "Pain is trying to anchor you to what is real. Remember that."

He turned and approached the spot where the line of sigils had been broken and redrew the ruined symbols. Raphael was supposed to leave the chamber and his brother without another word, but he sensed the feeble pulses of Castiel's Grace calling out to him, almost begging to him like a human child who was scared to be alone.

When Raphael, reluctantly, faced his brother, he was met with the saddest, most pitifully frightened expression he had ever encountered in his life. Gabriel had once or twice coined this as the 'kicked puppy look,' and while Raphael understood the phrase enough, it was only at this moment did a sliver of compassion made its way into his Grace. He would never admit it though, especially to him.

As the cold, hissing light of his Grace fairly softened, he went over to Castiel's bed once more. "Would you like it if I invited some of the members of your garrison here some time?" Raphael asked with uncharacteristic (partial) tenderness.

Castiel, on the verge of crying, wiped his eyes and gave a timid nod.

"Alright. If your condition improves, I'll send them a message." said Raphael resignedly. He made his way toward the exit again, this time taking great care ignore the intense fear and desperation riddling his brother's Grace.

"Rest. And remain _inside_ this chamber." he added pointedly.

O_x

Raphael was organizing his records in his study, and every so often he would turn his attention to the activities of Earth to monitor the tiniest supernatural fluctuation. While he was reviewing the documents of an odd case of an angel's Grace rapidly changing color and shape, a presence outside his study made itself known to him. Frustrated by the intrusion, Raphael nevertheless got up and went to see the visitor.

"Sir, may I have a moment?" the angel asked once they were face to face. Shimmering yellow light was emanating from him, a signature that was so unmistakable that Raphael already knew who he was before they could even directly see each other.

"What do you want, Azazel?" he barked.

Most angels would have flinched from his menacing tone; Azazel _pretended_ to be scared simply as an attempt to humor him. "I… simply wish to inform you that one of my blades have been stolen." he stated.

"You came up to me to report about a petty thievery?" growled Raphael.

"Let me explain," Azazel began smoothly. "This blade – I made it myself, you see, so it's not a typical weapon. I even brought it here with me to safeguard it, despite my injuries." he explained, gesturing at the tattered wings he had suffered after his previous mission.

"This is of no concern to me." said Raphael warningly.

He made a move to return to his study, when suddenly he felt Azazel grab hold of him. At once, rage welled up inside Raphael, not only because he was being stopped by an angel of lower rank, but also the fact that he had received contact without his consent. Archangels were highly revered; the air surrounding them should even be treated with veneration. He would have struck Azazel with a thousand lightning bolts on the spot just to remind him of his place but the same angel interrupted him from doing so.

" _Listen_. This blade is extremely dangerous in inexperienced hands, which is basically everyone other than me. It's a prototype, the first of its kind, and it was lost from me when the Infirmary went crazy and locked down." Azazel declared, abandoning all forms of pleasantries. "The blade responds to the thoughts and emotions of any angel wielding it. It can bend reality to a degree. The slightest notion can have a phenomenal effect." he continued stressfully.

That was indeed somewhat pressing. "I assume you've _at least_ tried to search for it." said Raphael lowly.

"I've been doing that since things went back to normal around here." retorted Azazel. "The only place left is the top, that's why I came to you." he said in a hushed tone, like this was a grave secret meant solely for them.

The Infirmary was still under lockdown, so there was no way the blade could have been taken outside. Someone must have it, and if Azazel did not find the culprit in the lower levels, that could mean that the blade had been taken to the place where only Raphael had unhindered access to. And other than him, there was merely one other angel who had gone there.

All of a sudden, the whole Infirmary shook as if in the middle of a powerful quake. Then the tremors became a succession of shockwaves, almost as if an attack was taking place, and blast after blast was hitting the walls. Raphael traced the source and found that it was inside the Infirmary.

"And I think someone's already using my blade." stated Azazel exasperatedly.

Another shockwave was all it took to get them both racing to the highest level of the Infirmary. When they reached the level just before the peak, they were stunned to see fire blazing in the halls and a wide array of chains and hooks strung up on the ceiling. The Healers in the area were either trying to extinguish the flames or getting their patients to safety, although the former did not seem to have that much of an effect.

At the topmost chamber, unlike what was happening below, every inch was as dark as the most remote folds of the universe, although something would occasionally creep out of the shadows or fleetingly burst through the hauntingly empty veils: apparitions of demons going back and forth and raking the floor with their claws in the process, harsh flashes of light that cut through the fringes of Raphael and Azazel's wings like heavenly knives, and anguished screams from nonexistent humans echoing throughout the place.

"How can a fledgling fabricate this monstrosity?" asked Azazel, tense and quiet.

Raphael would have questioned him how he knew it was a fledgling that was being housed here, but then he recalled announcing to the entire Infirmary of his patient, as well as not to send any more to him. Nonetheless, there was a part of him that wished another angel had gotten hold of Azazel's blade and had simply scurried off to the farthest point in the Infirmary.

But then he recalled the fearful reactions Castiel had made whenever he was deeply hallucinating, and after taking in the sights around them, he found it harder to believe this could be conceived by anyone else. Basically, he found it harder to believe Castiel had not gone completely mad by now if this was what he had to endure.

The darkness, particularly the things coming out of it, was making it difficult for them to locate Castiel; even Raphael's Grace was uncertain which direction to take next since Castiel's essence was somehow totally blocked from him.

Unexpectedly, a frail whimper pierced its way out of the gloom, and for Raphael, that was the equivalent of seeing a glimmer of sunlight. He traced it, dragging Azazel along, and soon enough there was Castiel, curled up into a ball of flickering blue light in a small corner and eyes glowing an appalling shade of red. The blade was held firmly in his grip, poised in a way that was ready to strike anything that came too close to him.

Raphael stepped forward into his brother's line of sight. "Castiel, drop the weapon." he commanded.

His presence must have scared Castiel even more than he currently was, because the red in his eyes actually got brighter and his grasp on the blade more desperate. "You're going to kill me." he sobbed.

"I'm not going to kill you." insisted Raphael, using a calmer voice.

"I disobeyed. You kill those who disobey." Castiel prattled on. Tears in the form of light were streaming down his face; meanwhile, the poison within him appeared to have hardened.

"Put down the blade." said Raphael as he advanced on him.

He had to stop when faded images of bloody humans, hundreds of them, materialized and the scene reminded Raphael of the massacres the people of Earth had done to their own people. What was horrifying was that the humans were all staring at Castiel, as if accusing him that it was his fault they were like this. Then, spiteful cackling filled the air, albeit that sound of twisted laughter was not ordinary, because Raphael only ever heard that once and that had been when he visited Hell.

"Leave me alone… please." sniveled Castiel, doing everything he can to shrink into himself even more. It dawned on Raphael that the reason Castiel had taken the blade in the first place was so that he could have something to protect himself with against these ghastly visions.

Raphael sensed a few of the Healers land behind him, clearly wanting to assist in subjugating Castiel. "Do not take him on." he advised them. He turned to Azazel. "Azazel, this is your device. Come with me." he instructed.

The two of them quickly formulated a plan: the gist was Raphael holding Castiel's attention while Azazel snuck up on him from the side to have a chance at nabbing the blade.

"Castiel, do you know where you are?" inquired Raphael in the most soothing voice he could muster.

For a minute, Castiel stared at him with mistrust and trepidation as he shakily pointed the blade at him. Then, ever so slowly, he shook his head.

At that, Raphael inched nearer. "Set the blade aside and you can return to Heaven." he said.

Castiel did not put the blade down, but the red glow in his eyes weakened a little and swirls of purple were starting to appear. Suddenly, images of vicious hellhounds ran in between them, and the redness of Castiel's eyes returned with full force. He scrambled to the left, and it was there where he discovered Azazel sneaking up on him.

" _Demon_!" shrieked Castiel, stumbling to the opposite way. "Don't touch me! Don't take me to Hell!" he cried out.

Even though Azazel's cover was blown, he still made an attempt to snatch his blade; however, Castiel was too fast for him and staggered deeper into the darkness to hide. The Healers present began to pursue him just as the chamber filled up with more gruesome apparitions.

Raphael absorbed the chaos happening everywhere, and he came to the conclusion that the extent of Castiel's hallucinations were connected to whatever was going on in reality. In a nutshell, the more Castiel got terrified in the real world, the more extreme the hallucinations were, and the blade was manifesting pretty much everything.

"Everyone, leave!" yelled Raphael.

"But – " Azazel protested.

"Do as I say!" he hollered.

Immediately, the Healers flew out of the chamber. Raphael glared at Azazel for a moment before he also took flight. He might as well try to reduce the bedlam here; the last thing he needed was petrifying Castiel out of his senses. Force, for the moment, was not needed in the situation; rather, what Raphael had to do was be as harmless as possible so he could coax his brother out of the hole he had dug himself into.

Frankly, using force would have been much easier for him.

The chamber, despite its severe tarnishes, was nevertheless very familiar to Raphael, so at least he would not have to worry about getting lost. The blade may have added a nightmarish touch to the room, but it did by no means expand its space. He navigated through the chamber with ease, searching for Castiel the old fashioned way.

The sole interruptions he had were the manifested figments of his brother's hallucinations passing him by or filling up the edges of his vision. They were merely pictures though, convincing as they were, with no solid form of their own. They could not really hurt him or anyone else, which was a blessing since it was an absolute war-zone here. Figures of angels were either lying dead or dying, and the room was caught in some erratic storm of Heavenly light and demonic shadows.

Raphael ignored the mocking whispers, the sight of angel blades falling from above like a downpour, the spills of blood and traces of ash on the floor, and he essentially ignored the sheer _apocalyptic_ signs that seemed to be shown on every apparition. How, in the name of the Father, was Castiel able to have such detail on this matter?

After what felt like an eon, he located Castiel attempting to fight off a horde of imaginary attackers. Raphael was uncertain if his pathetic fighting skills were because the poison was draining his prowess, or if his brother was truly poor at combat. Whatever the reason, Castiel looked as if he would fall over at the slightest, clumsiest jab of Azazel's blade.

His brother appeared weaker and more afraid, and his light was at its dullest. In fact, if he was not striving to fend off his hallucinations, he would be collapsing in extreme exhaustion now. Castiel was at his limit, and if the poison will not finish him, his burnt out Grace surely will.

For what was like the fiftieth time since he went up to the chamber, Raphael repressed the instinct to unleash a barrage of lightning bolts. He gradually approached Castiel the second the dreadful images in front of him evaporated with a sinister guffaw.

"What makes you sure that what you're seeing is real?" Raphael started gently.

Castiel fell backward, whimpering. He had the blade up and pointed it at him but his grip was lopsided and not as tight as before.

"Do you remember the basilisk sinking its teeth into you?" continued Raphael.

Castiel scurried over to a darker corner and proceeded to hide under his deformed wings. Albeit, Raphael caught a glance of his brother's eyes taking on a suggestion of purple. The blade slipped a bit in his hold, and absentmindedly, Castiel reached over to his right wingtip to caress the rumpled feathers.

"Do you like what is happening?" Raphael stated, getting closer.

There was a sniffle underneath the flimsy shield of down-feathers. Eventually, Castiel's tiny head peaked out of his wings and gave a barely noticeable shake.

Raphael crouched down until they were separated by a breath's length. "Do you want to spend the rest of your existence like this? None of this is real, you know that." he told him steadfastly.

A considerable flash of purple streaked across his red eyes briefly. "I'm… n-not sure – " stammered Castiel.

He was reaching him, Raphael was positive of it. Regardless, he could not help but ponder over how far Castiel had sunk with the poison. No matter how bad the hallucinations were, it was guaranteed that the excruciating backlash once he snapped out of it was always much, much worse in comparison. Before he succumbed to the visions, Castiel must have experienced a degree of agony so unbearable that he slipped under the numb safety of the poison, in spite of the consequences.

"Do you want your garrison to see you in such a state?" asked Raphael in a more hushed voice.

At that, Castiel sat up a little straighter and wiped the tears from his eyes. For a moment, he seemed to be 'waking up' in the same way humans do when they wrench their minds out of their own nightmares, groggy and uncertain of what was going on. His eyes were presently a mixture of red and purple and his familiar expression of wide-eyed curiosity was slowly beginning to seep into his features again.

Raphael could practically hear the words he had told him when they returned to the chamber echo in Castiel's head: ' _The pain may vanish, but at what cost? You lose your sanity to these hallucinations; you drift apart from your own family_ '. The fledgling may be stupid, naïve and timid but he loved his family more than anything.

Gradually, Castiel's tense posture slackened and his panic gave way to something akin to comprehension. However, just as he was on the verge of breaking free of the poison's influence, an image of an aggressive holy fire appeared and encircled Castiel. His brother screamed when he believed he was trapped and the red glow was vibrant in his eyes once more.

And there, Raphael saw it: the poison deep inside Castiel was reacting, defending itself and manipulating the thoughts of its host. Despite its power, it was four times smaller than its original size, and if Castiel simply had enough strength, he could remove it within a short amount time and permanently end this. The poison, figuratively, was on its last legs and it was doing everything it can to remain latched onto Castiel's form.

As the imaginary ring of holy fire got taller and hotter, Raphael reached for his brother, although Castiel doubted the trustworthiness of his nature again and sidled to the very end of the circle. He covered his face and started whimpering bits of various prayers.

"Brother, give me the blade. I will help you." said Raphael, still reaching to him.

Castiel shivered at the word 'brother'. He glanced up and tentatively held out Azazel's blade in a defensive stance. Purple flitted across his eyes.

"Come home." whispered Raphael.

He did not notice it at first, but over time, Raphael became aware of a shift in the air. He surveyed the chamber and discovered that the heavy darkness was actually receding. The demons, the shadows, the dying humans and angels were all disappearing; the stink of sulfur, blood and decay gave way to Heaven's fragrance. The crying and screaming from a multitude of fake voices were swallowed up by the eternal peace of the realm.

Then, Raphael heard something clatter to the floor, followed by a soft thud. He looked back at Castiel and saw that his brother was lying on his side and Azazel's smoking blade was adjacent to him. Quickly, Raphael shoved the blade to the far end of the chamber and gingerly cradled Castiel.

His brother was barely conscious, utterly exhausted from overpowering the massive visions. Nonetheless, Raphael was relieved to see the last of the basilisk poison exiting Castiel's wound.

"You have at last accepted it," murmured Raphael.

O_x

"Sir, we have finished analyzing the basilisk that attacked Castiel." spoke one of the Healers Raphael had assigned to go to Earth.

"And?" pressed Raphael.

"You were right, sir; it's not an ordinary one." he responded. "A handful of the Greek deities thought it would be amusing to bestow upon the creature the gift of divination." he scoffed.

"How credible is its ability?" asked Raphael somberly.

"It was constructed by Greek deities, sir." he chuckled. They always considered the other deities to be foolish enough to think they could rival Heaven's power, much like a chicken believing itself to be able to out-fly an eagle. Therefore, it was likely that the creature's 'gift' was incredibly faulty.

"What of the basilisk itself?" Raphael went on.

"Contained." the Healer replied confidently.

"And Zachariah?"

"Shrunk down to the size of a pea, serving his time in dung beetle territory, just as you have instructed."

For some, that would have been cruel and unusual punishment; but for Raphael, he blamed Zachariah for everything that had recently transpired. The Infirmary was yet to be fully reconstructed and a number of the patients had had their conditions worsened.

"Good. That will be all." said Raphael. He did not stay long enough to see the Healer bow all the way since he swiftly flew up to the topmost chamber.

Upon entering, the first thing he registered was the sight of a wide array of objects beside the threshold. They were all from Castiel's garrison; Raphael recalled one of the fledglings mention the words 'Get well soon presents' when they paid their injured comrade a short visit. The pile was composed of a random assortment of items: flowers from the Garden, vials of starlight, a necklace fashioned out of dewdrops from Earth, a feather from each member of the garrison and boxes containing the new songs they had learned while Castiel was confined to the Infirmary.

"He is much loved." Raphael mentally observed.

Straight ahead, Castiel was sitting up on his bed and had his back to him. He had an iridescent balm applied to his wound to help his form heal faster and his Grace replenish. His wings were still shabby and ragged at the edges but it was on the path to regaining its fluffiness. Even without using his medical knowledge, Raphael noted that his brother was, up until now, very, very, very weary.

"Thank the Father this is your last day in this place." commented Raphael, simply to break the uncustomary silence in the chamber.

Castiel sluggishly turned to meet his gaze, and despite the fact that his brother's eyes were still dull, Raphael was just relieved to see that the blue within them was steady. "I still can't remember what I saw." mumbled Castiel.

That must have been why he was so quiet, because he was deep in thought. "For all our sakes, it's for the best." remarked Raphael.

He was met with a slight head-tilt.

"You're healing, that's all that matters." Raphael said, instead of explaining further. He studied his brother for a long moment. "As a soldier, things will only get harder from this point. You should be ready that there are worse circumstances to come." he stated impassively.

"I accept that." said Castiel. His tone of voice had changed from the sniveling, pathetic whines of before into one that knew how to carry a burden in a complicated reality.

"I believe you have finally learned the first philosophy of pain," said Raphael, almost in a whisper.

"There's more?" Castiel inquired.

"Pain isn't just about highlighting the negative aspects. Father created everything with detriments _and_ benefits, which keeps reality in balance." elucidated Raphael. "Pain is a sign that we are alive, and in most cases it shows that we are actually doing something with our lives. Not only that, it helps us see what's really important, and we learn to value what we have." He paused, then added, "It brings out character, as well as develops it."

Castiel's expression was both understanding and inquisitive. He appeared to want to say something, though Raphael cut him off.

"You still have a long road ahead of you, but from what I have seen, there's a possibility that you can make a decent soldier." he said. Castiel did not exactly have the best fighting skills or the most power an angel of his rank could wield; however, he had the kind of determination that would put half the angels to shame.

Before leaving, Raphael gave Castiel one last pulse of healing from his Grace, enough to assist him through his remaining time in the Infirmary. Then, as he got up, his brother gently brushed his wingtip to grab his attention.

"Thank you." said Castiel.

And somehow, Raphael knew it was more than the healing.

Fin (for this mini-story).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little trivia for you guys: apparently, Raph's the one who cast down Azazel. I discovered that while I was doing research and it was impossible not to include ol' YED! Also, if you look up Azazel, there's some mention that he's involved in making weapons and stuff.


End file.
